The consideration of Jane Bustin’s selections, the fine ceramics and porcelain, the diaphanous materials and the blushes and traces of pigment, combine to serve as triggers for feeling, even a nostalgia for material and for touch and to elicit our own sensitivities. While her work fundamentally behaves as painting, this integration of objects, many with an implied domesticity, not only alter their relationship to the wall but they allow for this deeper range of association and allegory with their careful blend of familiarity and ambiguity.
The dialogue between the hidden and the revealed, the substantial and intricate runs through much of Bustin’s work. The notion of the concealed is reinforced when panels of differing scales and depths coalesce into larger conglomerates where only partial edges are visible. It is almost as if there is no “front” to her work – an oblique view, equally legitimate. Her use of highly polished copper panels even makes what is behind or to the side of the viewer an “aspect” of the works. The intense coloured edges spill colour onto the wall itself inviting further scrutiny from the flanks. Thus everything conspires to defeat a single pictorial viewpoint as her work reveals itself to be driven by movement.
Seldom do we encounter amidst the clamour and theatre of much contemporary work, such sensuality and modesty as Bustin’s work contains. For this reason alone it seems even more vital – not that she is obliged to swim against this tide but this coalition of refined tactility and material is key to resuscitating our sensory capacity.